Endless Hopes
by Zemerang
Summary: Harry is working for the ministry and Hermione is back from abroad. What will ensue when the two friends from the past meet up again?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: My first attempt at writing a fic. Please, honestly tell me if I should bother to continue. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

The night air was crisp, tickling Harry's nostrils as he cautiously crossed a street, sights set on a particular house. The home didn't exactly bear a distinction from the other houses that filled the street, but this house _was _different, and Harry knew house possessed aging reddish-brown brick on the ground floor, but an almost decaying looking white painted wood covered the second floor, no doubt a later addition to the home. Ivy had begun to grow up the sides of the building from the wildly growing garden. Surrounding the property was a shabby white picket fence. The owners were either long gone or too immersed into other things to care about a tidy garden.

Taking a last look around to make sure nobody was watching, Harry quietly hopped the curb and, careful not to make a sound, pushed open the fence's gate, wand in hand. Silently he shuffled his way up the sidewalk and up the two steps to the front door. He reached for the knob, but then thought better of it. He tried to peek a glance through the window but found the curtains thoroughly blocking sight into the home.

Deciding going round back was the better option, he quietly ducked under the front windows and made his way around the left side of the building, fighting through the tall, abandoned hedges as soundlessly as he could. Upon reaching the back door, he tried the knob but wasn't surprised to find it locked. Raising his wand, he flicked it at the knob with a simple unlocking charm. Again, not surprised as he tried the knob again to find it still locked. Flicking his wand again with more eloquent strokes, the unmistakable sound of a turning lock could be heard. Gently, he made his way inside.

He was confident someone wouldn't go through that much trouble to lock a door with advanced magic if they were simply trying to ward off a possible muggle break-in. Logic stated that there was either someone living here, or that they had left something here for safekeeping. Either way, Harry was determined to search the house for clues. Stepping on his toes, he made his way through the house.

Without the light from the moon anymore, Harry was forced to produce a small light from his wand. The back door opened up to a small kitchen and led off in two directions. One way seemed to lead to a simple storing area, filled with dust covered boxes. Harry quickly mapped the area, and satisfied nothing of note was there, turned back to the kitchen to make his way through the rest of the home. Turning out of the kitchen there was a small dining area, a table, four chairs, and some paintings making up the room. Sharing a room with the dining area was a living room. A small sofa with a few pillows was opposite a pair of armchairs, seperated by a coffee table. Strewn across the low table was a very large number of books. Then Harry noticed the rest of the room was also covered in books. Across lamp tables, bookshelves, and cupboards, books were stacked so high it looked like a strong sneeze could send the whole room raining in hardcovered text.

As peculiar as the living room was, Harry couldn't let his guard down. Pressing on, he found a hallway leading to a bedroom and a bath, both filled with either boxes or books. Having checked the main floor, Harry continued his search upstairs. Inwardly groaning at the loud creaks the stairs gave with each step he took, Harry kept his wand pointed at the top stairs, prepared for somebody to investigate the noise. Remarkably, Harry reached the top undiscovered, and peered down a hallway that led to several rooms.

Entering the first room on the left, Harry was disappointed to find another simple bathroom. Continuing search on the next room, Harry entered to find what appeared to be a study. Approaching a desk, it continued the theme of the rest of the house and featured several stacks of books. However, next to the stacks was clear space that displayed signs of a writing station. There were parchments stacked on top of eachother at the center, and on the right was a quill resting in a bottle of ink. Somewhat fresh ink, Harry noticed. He also found a small lantern sitting atop a small stack of books to the left of the station. He could tell it was recently lit from the faint smell of burning wax still in the air.

This alerted Harry even more and quickly turned around to continue his search, but as he did he heard someone say confidently, "Expelliarmus!"

His wand was suddenly torn from his grip and thrown across the room, clanking on the wooden floor, into a corner. Over the last two years Harry had immersed himself into learning wandless magic. Over the two years he was sad to say the most he had accomplished was that he could summon his wand to him. It was a treasure of a skill to have, but he was disappointed to not have accomplished more. Harry wasted no time here using that skill, almost immediately as he felt his wand torn from him, he summoned up his energy and sent it flying back to his hand. But before he could put himself on the offensive, the witch, for he was sure it was a females voice who uttered the spell, turned on the lights, thinking she had perfectly taken care of the threat when hearing his wand scatter. Harry was about to attack when he stopped himself.

"Hermione?" he asked, incredulous.

"Harry!" she shouted back and leaped toward him, ensnaring him in a gripping hug. He slowly came to realization of what was happening and firmly hugged her back.

Hermione, seeming to come to her senses, disentangled herself from him and stepped back, guarded. "What are you doing here, Harry?"

"What am _I_ doing here?! I thought you were abroad! What are you doing in this house?"

"I live here! I have for about three months now. What are you doing here?" she asked again.

"I came here to investigate a possible hide-out of a Death Eater," he said simply.

"What? Why would you think that I was a Death Eater?"

"The Ministry has been getting reports that this place has been recently inhabited by a witch or wizard. Owls had been sent here for a possible resident to confirm its new home in a Muggle suburb. We like to keep track of things like that, you know. Anyway, the owls always returned without a reply, so you could understand our suspicions."

"Oh! I believe that _is _my fault. I placed anti-owl wards around the house. I'm sick of every bloody magazine in Britain sending me request upon request for an interview. Not to mention some annoying fan mail and the not-so-nice mail," she said, crossing her arms with a slight huff.

Harry chuckled. Hermione had become a minor celebrity in the academia world. After their seventh year at Hogwarts, Hermione immediately went abroad to study and do research_. _She had already published three works. One a textbook that she and Harry had actually co-written about the Defense Against the Dark Arts. She wanted to spread the knowledge to as many as possible, especially because of the dark times, and since Harry was a natural expert, she asked for his help and he was more than willing to oblige. The second was an inspirational essay describing how important it was to keep up with your studies at school and to excel in every subject, not just one or two. The third had been a book detailing the social atrocities the wizarding world had committed against house elves. That last one he assumed is where the death-threats came in.

Harry was immensly relieved. He had not seen Hermione in three years, and hadn't spoken to her in two. He wasn't sure why it had been so long since they spoke. Owls from her abroad kept getting more infrequent as time went by and eventually they just stopped altogether. He was worried for her, but he didn't want to intrude on her or nag her and risk pushing her away. Besides, there was plenty of work for him here to keep his mind busy.

"Well, when did you get back?" Harry asked, wondering why she had been here for three months and hadn't made contact with him.

Hermione stepped back and a slight frown formed on her face. She seemed to read the hurt on his expression and seemed sheepish. "Four months ago," she said softly.

Harry, obviously hurt by the knowledge, took a step back as well. The hurt turned quickly to anger. He didn't know why she was distancing herself from him, but if that is what she wanted, he wasn't going to deny her her right to do that. He had to get out of there before he did something stupid in his anger.

"Well, I'd better go inform the Ministry that you're not in league with Voldemort. I'll get out of your way," he said, making his way into the hallway and starting down the stairs.

"Harry, I'm sorry!" she said, though it came out almost like a whimper.

He stopped at the bottom of the staircase and looked up at her, still standing at the top. "Its okay, Hermione. The Ministry isn't going to hand out any kind of punishment because you didn't want to be bothered. I'll just let them know its you that's here."

"No, Harry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was back in town. I...I didn't want to bother you..."

"You wouldn't _bother _me, Hermione. I've been worried about you."

"You have?" she asked, timidly.

"Of course! It's been ages since I heard from you. How would you expect me to feel?"

Hermione put her head down, hiding her face in her bushy brown hair. "Relieved...?" she asked in an almost whisper.

Shock went through Harry. Did he hear her right? How could she ever believe that? She was his best friend, his only _real _friend. How could she think that he didn't care for her? That he wanted to stop talking to her? Did he do something to suggest that?

"Hermione, I can't even comprehend how you could ever think that. You, the brightest witch I've ever known. I..." he trailed off in frustration, raising his arms in the air questioningly, not able to comprehend her thinking process.

Hermione's eyes smarted as she fought back a couple tears. She finally brought her head up and looked at Harry in the dark. He had changed so much since she last saw him. Instead of the boyish, unruly hair that she was so used to seeing on him, he sported a short cropped head. Still, there were places where his hair wouldn't behave and sort of stood up against the others. It still gave him that sexy "fresh out of bed" look that she so loved. A small smile crept across her face at that.

Also gone were his glasses, but he seemed to be able to see well enough. Perhaps he had opted to adopt the muggle contact lenses? It wouldn't surprise her. She was glad that he had gone for a more practical option, but she still missed him in his glasses. It was part of his charm.

Harry was looking up at her, watching her watch him. He noticed she had changed her appearance somewhat.. She had straightened and thinned out her hair quite a bit, but it still had that bushy look that he was so fond of. She had outgrown some of the freckles on her face, but quite a few were still there. She had grown out, too. It was hard not to notice. She looked more like a young woman than a teenager, but still petite and frail looking.

The sun was starting rise, light began to shine through the windows, and Harry realized how late it was. He looked down at his watch and said, "Well, I'd better get to it. If I don't make it back soon they'll think somethings wrong. Don't want them sending a whole team to harass you, do we?"

When Harry moved to go, Hermione realized she had to try and do something to fix things before he left. She fled down the stairs.

"Harry!" she called after him. "Would you...would you like to get some dinner tonight?"

Harry paused at the back door, turned and smiled at her. "I'll pick you up at eight?" he inquired, testing to see if she really wanted to do this.

"Eight sounds lovely."

"Great, see you then." And with a new determination to get back to the office and finish work early, Harry strode out to the backyard, glanced around to make sure nobody was watching, then disapparated.

Hermione fled back inside the house, and relocked the door. She hadn't realized she had followed him outside into the cold. Slowly, she made her way back up to her study. She had let herself hope again, and she was afraid of the consequences that might follow. Still, anxious about tonight, she hopped up the stairs to at least try to get some more writing done and get some sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I noticed I forgot to add a disclaimer of sorts so here it is. Unfortunately none of these characters are mine, I am making absolute zero profit out of this story, and even more unfortunate, Hermione isn't mine. :(

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When Harry got back to the office, he had meant to start on the long stack of paperwork that had accumulated on his desk so that he could get out and take Hermione to dinner. He quickly found out that he wasn't very good at working tonight, thoughts of Hermione swimming around his head. He barely made a dent in the work when eight o'clock rolled around.

Harry apparated on to the front porch, right by the door so that it would have been very difficult for a muggle to see him appear. He knocked on the door. Then his body froze. He was still wearing his muggle clothes he wore when he was working in non-magical areas. He hoped Hermione didn't mind him in blue jeans and a button up shirt. When she opened the door, he was relieved to find she was similarly informally dressed with a nice black shirt and light gray jumper. She looked so stunning. He couldn't help smiling. Without saying anything, he extended out his arm. With a little hesitation she slipped hers through it, and he apparated them to a nice little muggle diner he frequently visited after work.

They chatted quietly about the weather and other inconsequential things until after they were done eating and had ordered some tea and a few biscuits for afterwards.

"So what have you been up to?" Hermione opened up.

"Pretty much the same since we last talked," Harry replied. Ever since leaving Hogwarts, Harry had become an Auror at the Ministry of Magic and, because of his close relation to the events, was put on a team of highly gifted witches and wizards charged with the task of hunting down Voldemort and eliminating the possibility of his return. Voldermort's failure to retake a physical body in Harry's fourth year and thus make his return had only enamored the dark lord even more to make his plans succeed. He continued, "I haven't had a real holiday in two years, I've been so busy. But it has been worth it, in my opinion. We're doing real good work. Voldemort's followers are dwindling, and their faith in him is breaking."

"That's fantastic news, Harry. I knew you were going to be a brilliant Auror."

"Oh come off it. I've only done my share. The people I'm working with...they're real pros, Hermione. I've learned a lot from them. You'd be hard pressed to find more clever and brave people."

Hermione dropped her head and took a sip of her tea before responding. "Well I'm glad you've found a place where you're happy. You far deserve it," she said, with a sadness Harry couldn't comprehend.

"Well, enough about me. I'm really more interested in what you've been doing," he replied, wanting to change the subject.

Harry wanted to ask her why she hadn't made a point to let him know she was back, even just to tell him she was okay. She must have known he would worry about her after she didn't owl anymore. He was so frustrated with her, that he wanted to grab her shoulders and shake her until he got an answer.

Hermione, in truth, was anxious to begin this conversation. After listening to him describe his job, she was even more adamant that she was right to abstain from contacting Harry. He had found his place, he didn't have room for her anymore. She was still looking for _her_ place, and she couldn't have Harry filling her with false hope anymore.

She didn't blame him for moving on with his life. Yes, Voldemort was still out there, but thanks to Harry and his colleagues, it seemed unlikely that he would really return. The wizarding world had almost gone back to a sense of normality these last couple years. And so he had moved on, mostly. How could she reproach him for leaving her behind? She knew deep down that he would make time for her, and eventually they could probably make it seem that things back to the old ways between them, but she refused to be a nuisance in his life. She couldn't take just trying to hang on to him as he soared through life, his ignorance of her struggle to just hold on to him. She had to let go, let him go his course, and hopefully find a path for herself, one that didn't revolve around him. That way they could both live happily. She needed to make herself not care anymore.

But for all that, when she looked up at him and saw in his eyes the obvious hurt he was holding inside, something again broke down all of her defenses, and she began to hope again. "I...I..." she stammered, not knowing how to start. "I was in France, then later in Germany. I was researching just a couple different magical schools in Europe. I'm going to write an essay comparing them to Hogwarts. It's really hard without being biased. Hogwarts is magical in more ways than the obvious."

Harry nodded. The last time he had heard from her, she was in France and preparing to relocate to Germany in a few months. She had said then that she would be so busy until the move that she probably wouldn't be able to owl again, but that she would once she got situated in Germany to let him know she was alright. He was almost desperate to find out what changed her mind, to make her stop talking to him. He remembered earlier that day, what she said in her new house. She said she thought he would be relieved? Looking at her, he thought, "How could anyone not want you in their life?"

Hermione continued, watching Harry nervously. "I moved on to Germany. It was there that I met someone...Markus. We began dating...and for a while I thought I was happy."

A foul taste visited Harry's mouth and a lump formed in his throat at hearing this. He wasn't sure why, but he hated this Markus person already. He could tell that it hurt her to tell him about this, but he needed to know more. "Please, go on," he urged, softly.

She dipped her head again, to hide her face as she stirred her tea. She didn't know how much more she wanted to tell him. While she was over what happened, she couldn't know how Harry would take it. She noticed how his hand curled up into a fist on the table. Perhaps she had said too much already.

She had decided to change the subject but when she looked up again into his eyes and saw how intently he was staring at her, a hopeful voice in her mind was shouting at her to tell him everything, that he wouldn't be upset, that all he cared about was that she was okay. Could she afford to listen to that voice anymore?

"Do you really want to hear the details? Let's just say it ended, but that I'm fine with it."

"No. I want to hear it all. What did he do?"

She looked at him quizzically. "Why do you assume it was him that did something wrong?"

"Well," he answered honestly, "I can't believe you ever doing something wrong. You're the most perfect person I've ever known."

Hermione felt something shoot straight from the bottom of her stomach all the way to her throat at hearing that. The sensation coursed through her so vibrantly it made her body jump a bit, forcing her to sit up straighter.

She allowed a big, warm smile to form on her face. She couldn't believe what she heard, but she loved it all the same. She was dangerously close to giving in to that other voice of hers she had tried so hard to silence. "Well, it actually was me."

Harry was so delighted to see her smile that he couldn't help doing the same, despite the conversation he so hated they were having. "I don't care what she says, screw this Markus guy," he thought.

"I...just wasn't ready for a relationship. Especially one abroad. I loved Germany, but I don't know if I want to live there for the rest of my life. Britain is my home."

Harry nodded understandingly, then smiled and added "And I don't know if I could handle you being a thousand miles away for the rest of your life, either."

That spear of feeling rushed through Hermione again. What was he doing to her? How could she feel like this with just a simple statement? She had to stop, to get away from him. He was dangerous for her. Was meeting with him a mistake? She thought she could handle it, but her voice in her mind was slamming against her brain, screaming for her to let it out, and she was so very nearly close to doing that. She was about to get up, make her excuses and walk away, but something stopped her.

Harry had reached out and taken her left hand in both of his, cradling it. She looked at her hand in his for a few long moments, trying to fight the tingling sensation in her hand and the butterflies in her stomach, and then looked up at him.

He stared in her eyes and said, "I know I've been acting out of sorts, and I admit that I was upset that you didn't tell me you were back, but I want you to know that I am so very happy that you are here and safe. That's what matters. I shouldn't be such a Negative Nancy."

Hermione couldn't take it any longer. She saw the sincerity in his eyes and her resolve melted. It was too late for her. She wouldn't be able to break away and try to push him out again. This was it. She knew there was a great probability that she would end up getting hurt, and she was sure it would be pain she couldn't handle. But in that moment she didn't care, all she wanted was to stare back into Harry's eyes and feel the bliss that her crumbled willpower allowed.

He had walked her back to her house, and up to the front door. Their conversation had turned more lighthearted on the way back, but she still couldn't get the butterflies out of her belly. They said their goodbyes and she turned to go inside, when she was halted by his hand on her wrist. Her heart nearly jumped up her throat as she turned around to face him.

"Hermione," he grinned. "Can I see you tomorrow?"

She was so elated that he truly seemed to want to, she couldn't help herself. She nearly jumped up and enveloped him in a hug. They held there for several long moments before she stepped down. "Yes," she breathed.

Harry sighed in pleasure. "Great! I'll talk to you tomorrow! I'll let you get some sleep now though, good night!" And with that he apparated silently on the spot.

He didn't mean to leave so abruptly, but he had to get away before he ruined it. After their hug, he was so close to kissing her that he had to go before he gave in. After finally getting Hermione back into his life, he wasn't going to push her away with his fantasies of becoming more than friends.

Hermione went inside and fed Crookshanks before heading upstairs. She had a lot to process, she didn't know emotions like the ones she experienced at dinner existed. More than that, she couldn't believe that she, Hermione Granger, was actually experiencing them. He said he'd let her get some sleep... as if she could tonight.

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A/N: Well things are moving pretty fast. We'll see where they go.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks again for the reviews! Here's the next segment. Hope you enjoy! Let me know if you do/don't!

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As expected, Hermione had a hard time finding sleep after her dinner with Harry. She had finally decided to give in to her feelings for Harry even though she knew they would lead her to disastrous results. There was some part of her, a very well hidden part, that almost knew that this time was different and that she would finally get Harry. But the rest of her was telling her that she was playing with fire and she was going to get burned. She wasn't sure if she could recover from a wound like that, but she was sure she had to try. She couldn't keep on caring for Harry like this and not have her feelings reciprocated. It wasn't healthy in the slightest, and if Harry breaking her heart was what would finally end her perpetual, puerile love for him, then maybe that was exactly what she needed.

Hermione found it odd that when fantasizing about her later life when a child, she never seemed to have imagined a man. That was never a part of the plan. She knew it was a very common thing for people when they grew up to find someone and fall in love. She read many tales and sagas about the wonder of love growing up, but somehow she never incorporated that into her grand scheme. She was somehow always alright with being alone, even frightened of the prospect of sharing a life with someone, she made herself not want it. That mindset seemed so foreign to her now. Her whole life seemed to revolve around Harry, and that made her afraid. Maybe that was why she never wanted this, never wanted to go through this. Before falling in love with Harry, she considered herself quite independent. In fact, she was constantly told by her parents and other adults, even some classmates from Hogwarts, just how independent she was. Now, to be so dependent on someone scared her beyond measure.

She guessed it was good and bad that that someone happened to be Harry Potter. Good, because she knew Harry was probably the best person she had ever met. If she were to be dependent on someone, she knew there were countless worse people to be dependent on. It was bad because of the same reason it was good. Because Harry was so downright special, it is tough have that person make you love them so much when you couldn't ever be their equal. It hurt a lot that Harry would probably never choose her, but she couldn't at all blame him. Bland ol' Hermione Granger. She would never catch the eye of a wizard like Harry Potter. Maybe she was smart enough, but she knew she was lacking in physical beauty, even with her attempts to change. She knew rejection would sting, but she had to tell him. She couldn't live in "what if" land any longer.

She had finally slipped into unconsciousness late that night, much later than she was accustomed to. Dreams of butterflies with lightning symbols on their wings filled her head.

* * *

Harry quickly signed his signature on the last document of the three, foot high stacks of papers that had accumulated on his desk this last week. Sitting back and taking a deep breath, he examined his work with a great sense of achievement. Why they had so much paperwork in the Ministry was beyond him. All it accomplished doing in his opinion was to make his hand hurt. Hand aching or not, he was happy to get it all done today. He had planned on asking Hermione if she would accompany him for lunch today, but instead opted to work through his lunch break and finish these cursed documents. He was a little worried, because he had owled Hermione early this afternoon to see if she would be agreeable to dinner again tonight, but hadn't gotten a response yet. Looking at his watch, the time read a quarter to seven. What would keep her from owling back?

Locking the door to his office, he apparated home. After a quick shower and a change of clothes, he decided this time he would apparate into Hermione's living room. It was a bit rude, but he didn't want to chance getting seen apparating onto her porch too often.

Making his way through the mountains of books, he called out, "Hermione! I'm here for dinner. Did you get my owl?"

Hearing no response, he headed upstairs. He went from room to room looking for her, reminding him of yesterday, going through her house for the first time looking for a death eater. He finally found her in the room at the end of the hall, fast asleep in her bed. He walked over to her and just watched her sleep for a while. A lock of her hair had fallen to her face and was being flung against her nose with every breath. He carefully snagged the lock and tucked it behind her ear. She rolled a bit at the contact but otherwise didn't react. Harry conjured a nice chair and silently perched himself next to her bed.

Looking at her there sleeping so peacefully, he realized he cared about her too much to keep up the appearance of being just her friend. His feelings went far beyond friendship, and he knew then that it would be impossible to remain just friends with her. And he couldn't not have her in his life. That was a dark, dark world that Harry didn't want to imagine. So he'd have to tell her. But how? How could he express the way he feels so that she wouldn't laugh him off. Or worse, what if she took him seriously and ran off again to get away from him? Would he go after her? Of course he'd want to, but would that help or hurt his chances? All these questions, and Harry couldn't really answer any of them. All he really knew were two facts. First, he needed Hermione. Second, he had to tell her how he felt.

_Tonight,_ he thought. _I'll do it tonight. If she ever wakes up, that is._

Although Harry was actually perfectly content to sit there and watch her as she slumbered, concern entered his mind. _Is she ill?_ _What was that bloody temperature_ _charm?_

Failing to remember the spell, he tried the muggle method of putting his hand on her forehead. Upon doing so, Hermione shifted her head and mumbled, "Harry...butterfly scar..."

Harry's first reaction was one of utter joy. Hermione said his name in her sleep? Was she dreaming about him? The feelings that pierced him at the possibility served as another righteous example that he should tell her about his feelings for her. Then he remembered the other part of her drowsy speak. Butterfly scar? What did that mean?Maybe she really isn't feeling well. She didn't feel hot, not any warmer than anybody should be. Harry knew that there were illnesses that didn't sport a fever, but he wasn't very knowledgeable in that field. To be honest, he knew more about Muggle treatments for health than he did about the magical. Deciding she probably wouldn't wake until he got back, he apparated silently.

* * *

Hermione's dream was starting to fade. Vaguely she was aware that someone was near her, but she brushed it off to drowsiness and continued to sleep.

It wasn't till sometime later that she heard someone calling her name and something rumbling around the end of her bed.

"Hermione, I think it'd be best for you to start waking up."

She recognized the voice as Harry's and almost jumped at the realization. "Blimey, Harry! What are you doing here so early. I agreed to something today but I didn't think you meant this early!"

"Early? Hermione, don't you know what time it is?" he asked, almost incredulous.

Curious about his tone, she looked to the corner of her room where a great grandfather clock stood. _Half past eight! How long have I been sleeping?!_

"I'm so sorry, Harry. I must have been more tired from yesterday than I thought." _It probably didn't help that I was up half the night thinking of you._

Harry chuckled. "So you're not sick, then?" He wondered. Despite the smirk on his face, she could tell there was some genuine concern behind his eyes.

"No, I'm quite alright. What's that there?" She pointed to the two sacks at the end of the bed.

"Oh, well," Harry began,pulling out the contents of one bag, "I, err, assumed you weren't feeling well and I don't know much about magical healing methods, and I thought that you wouldn't mind doing it the muggle way, but, er, if you want me to run to the magical clinic it'll just be a few minutes..."

"Harry! It's okay! I'm not even ill!"

"Oh, er, right."

Hermione smiled deeply. She was sorry he wasted his time but she was also filled with glee at how much he cared that she might of been sick. Not only that, but there were at least ten different containers and bottles now laying on the bed, presumably all curing a different illness. "What's in the second sack, then?"

"Oh yeah, well, the muggle medicine labels said not to use them if you had an empty stomach so I stopped by a cafe and got you some breakfast/dinner." Harry then laid out two large bagel halves covered with a honey-hazelnut spread, followed by two containers, one filled with strawberries, the other with cream.

As if on cue, Hermione's stomach let out a gentle growl. "Oh, Harry. Thank you so much!"

She crawled out of bed and gave him a soft, but affectionate hug. She couldn't ignore the electricity that ran through her in that should-be-innocent act.

All this recent kindness from Harry had given her more confidence. She took her "breakfast/dinner" as Harry had so eloquently put it, and scooted back to the head of the bed, and patted the spot her food at previously inhabited, indicating Harry to sit.

Harry smiled and took her invitation. Facing each other, both sitting Indian-style on the bed, the room was enveloped with silence as Hermione ate. Hermione was well aware of his staring as she ate, and for the most part tried to focus on her food. However, there were moments where she couldn't resist and found herself staring back at him, for however long, she didn't know. His smile never left his face.

Eventually her thirst got the better of her and she broke the silence. "Drink?"

Harry, still smiling, raised his wand and in through the doorway a bottle with a straw came floating in and into her hands.

"Ooooh," Hermione moaned. "A mango-peach smoothie! You remembered?" she asked, taking the straw in her mouth and sucking vigorously, enjoying the cold refreshment. She had told him once, long ago, that it was her favorite.

Harry just nodded, pleased that she was so satisfied.

Hermione, having slurped the last of her chilled drink, looked up, perky.

"So I guess I ruined the evening by having a lie in, huh?" she commented.

"I wouldn't say so," Harry replied, his smirk ever present. "I've had a good time so far."

"Oh, come off it. I've been a right bore so far. All I've done is eaten! And rather barbarically, I might add. Who knew sleeping could build up such an appetite."

"I think you're rather cute when you eat."

Hermione flushed and looked down, hiding her face behind her hair. She stayed that way until she felt most of the color had left her cheeks.

"How about you? Have you eaten?" she asked, deflecting.

"I got something at the cafe."

"Oh, okay.."

"So, Hermione? I wanted to ask you something..." he began, slowly.

"Okay?" she replied, just as slow. Her eyes widened a bit. What made him be so serious all of a sudden? This was something bad, she could tell.

Harry's face scrunched up a bit, like he was making a decision, and then all of a sudden flattened out again. "What does butterfly scar mean?" he asked, chickening out and asking the first thing that came to his mind.

Hermione was confused for a moment, then realization set in. "Oh!" she gasped before blushing like she never had before. "Er, I don't know. Why?"

"You don't know?"

"No. Its nothing." she replied quickly, hoping to have the topic dropped.

"Well which is it? You don't know or its nothing?"

"Um..." she said, biting her lower lip, "its nothing. Don't worry about it."

Harry wanted to push it, but let it go for now. "Well, if you're done eating, would you like to show me what you've been working on lately?"

Hermione's eyes lit up a bit and she smiled. "Really? You want to?" she asked, as if she had been dying to show somebody but hadn't had the chance.

"Of course, I'd like to know what kept you so busy from talking to me." It was an honest answer, but he regretted it as soon as it left his mouth.

Hermione's grin dwindled into a sad smile, but got up and showed Harry to her study.

* * *

The night was going as good as Harry could have expected. After Hermione presented what she had already achieved in the comparison of the Kenntnissehaus in Germany, the Cosmiquecole in France, and Hogwarts. She animatedly told him of how each school had its own unique characteristics that divided it from other schools, but even after thorough inspections she found Hogwarts to be the most profoundly fascinating. The conversation then turned to their old times at school.

"...and Binns was so upset that I skipped question four about goblin wand legislation on my O.W.L. after he apparently told me three times in class, I swear his face was red with anger, if that is possible for a ghost!"

Hermione, calming down from a fit of laughter, added, "Well, maybe if you actually stayed awake during some of his lectures, you wouldn't of had to skip it and face his fury!"

"Ha! But when else would I nap?" He replied, which earned him a swat on the arm from Hermione. Harry continued, "You know I would have failed all of my classes without your help."

"Not true! You would have failed everything but DADA. I'm afraid to say that I was never even close to being as good as you at it. You were brilliant."

"I'd rather fight a dementor than write an essay over the effects of Draught of Peace any day."

"See, I think you might need a priority change," she quipped, shaking her head, smiling.

"If only you could see things my way!" Harry said in mock defense.

"What is so scary about an essay?!" she challenged. "What's the worse that could happen? Spill your ink? Or maybe the scary part is you might fall asleep on the still drying ink and wake up with smudges all over your face!" Hermione howled, laughing at her own joke.

"It wouldn't be the first time it happened!" Harry pointed out, chuckling himself.

Their banter continued on, the majority of it about Harry's old, unhealthy studying habits. Feigning anger, Harry rose and declared, "Madam! Your affront's are unwarranted and shall not be met without contestation! I demand you make amends!"

Hermione giggled at his charade. "Or what? Are we to fight to the death?"

Coming suddenly out of character, he replied. "Nah, I was thinking wizards chess."

"Deal."

* * *

Hermione put up a good match, but Harry inevitably emerged the victor.

"Wow! I was so sure I was going to win! I thought I had you a few moves ago..."

"That's what I wanted you to think! I had you right where I wanted you."

"I must say, I'm very impressed, Mr. Potter. Ron must have taught you well."

"I guess he did, indeed," Harry agreed, putting up the game pieces.

A thought entered Hermione's head then, something she had thought about before but wanted Harry's opinion on it.

"Harry? Do you ever think about Ron?"

Harry was a bit surprised by the question. It was an unwritten rule of sorts between them to not bring Ron up too much. After a few moments of thinking, he spoke. "Huh. Not much, I suppose. I used to, quite a lot actually."

"Do you miss him?"

"Kind of. I mean, we were mates that first year, but...you know what happened."

Hermione nodded. Ron had always been a slight git to Hermione, but he was still so loyal and brave. She was dismayed to learn that he had been murdered by Quirrell at the end of term their first year. They found him in a corridor, dead. The story was that Quirrell had been on his way to the third floor, undoubtedly heading to find the philosophers stone, and Ron had the misfortune of bumping into him. Knowing Quirrell was up to something, Ron tried to stop him alone. The school mourned him, but none more so than Harry and Hermione, his two closest friends.

Harry continued. "I'll always remember him, but honestly we didn't know him _too _well. It was only that year. I guess time has made me numb to it all."

Hermione nodded again. "It's about the same for me. Does that make us bad people?"

Harry pondered that for a moment before responding. "I don't think so. I think that its only natural. I won't ever forget him or what he did, but its not healthy to be plagued by it. I really think its human nature, really. I guess time does heal all things." Harry finished, sounding resigned.

"...Not all things," she corrected.

* * *

A/N: I didn't expect to end this chapter here, but it seemed like a good spot.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hello again! Here is the next chapter, I hope you enjoy! Let me know either way! Oh, and please excuse any spelling/grammar issues, if they're there, they're unintentional.

* * *

Following their game of wizard's chess, Hermione had insisted upon not loafing around any longer and concluded that she and Harry would go out for a stroll.

The two wandered through the suburban area of Brentwood. Wanting to restore their earlier lighthearted mood of a few minutes ago, Harry reminisced, "Do you recall the time Crookshanks found himself in a fight with a group of Bowtruckles?"

Hermione gave an upbeat smile, remembering, "You had to come to the rescue, levitating him out of danger."

Harry turned and playfully punched her shoulder. "Maybe if you lifted your head out of your book more, he wouldn't have sneaked off and caused so much trouble."

"Oh no, Crookshanks would have had plenty of time for mischief anyway, seeing as how I was constantly forced to chase _you_ around trying to keep _you _out of trouble."

"I would have been fine. I can take care of myself!"

"Oh really? Do I need to remind you of the acromantula colony I saved you from?"

"Hey, those spiders had it out for me! Hagrid should have told them about me."

"You were roaming around on their grounds!"

"How was I supposed to know where I was? There weren't defined borders."

"Well, it's your fault for venturing into the Forbidden Forest for a bit of fun."

"It was fun in the Forbidden Forest! Mostly.."

"It was only fun because I was there to keep us from getting killed!"

"So you did have fun!" Harry exclaimed, smiling buoyantly.

Hermione giggled at his assertion. "Maybe a little," she admitted. When Harry's smile didn't fade for the next minute, she chuckled. "What are you on about?"

Harry looked at her and then forward again, his grin still present. "I knew there was a sense of adventure in you, Hermione Granger."

Hermione laughed and hooked her arm through Harry's. "With the right partner in crime," she confirmed, beaming. She was thoroughly enjoying their banter.

Their walk went on until they came across fewer and fewer houses. They were eventually stopped by a 'Dead End' sign. "Oh, bugger," Hermione commented. At Harry's look of confusion, she explained, " I don't know where we are. Sorry, Harry, I wasn't really paying attention."

"No worries. We'll just apparate back to your place."

"Oh, alright," she replied with little enthusiasm.

"What is it?" Harry asked, noticing her tone.

Hermione looked to the side, slightly embarrassed. "Well, it's just that my place is filled with books and boxes. It's a good place to read and write, but otherwise its plain boring."

"Well, I could show you my flat," Harry blurted out without thinking. _Shit, I hope she declines._ Harry barely spent time at his apartment, so most of it went unused and therefore didn't require much upkeep. However, the one room he really ever used, his bedroom, was in complete disarray. He often got home late and left early and rarely made his bed or picked up his clothes.

"I'd love to see it!" Hermione proclaimed, visibly more excited about the change of destination.

"Great," Harry replied anxiously. "Take my hand."

Hermione beamed. Side-apparition, she knew, and knew Harry did as well, wasn't specific to any part of the body. If he asked her to grab his hand, it was because he wanted her to. Hermione stepped to Harry's side, and apprehensively joined her hand with Harry's outreached one. While she had gotten somewhat used to it, she hated the feeling of apparating and wasn't looking forward to experiencing it now. As soon as her hand made contact with Harry's, though, her worry vanished immediately, replaced by a warm electric current shooting up her arm and connecting with her ever-present butterfly feeling in her abdomen. The two feelings collided and fused together in the strangest way, giving Hermione a whole new sensation. She smiled at the effect Harry had on her. Realizing they hadn't apparated yet, Hermione looked up to Harry and found him watching her. She nodded her readiness, and closed her eyes as she felt the rush of air around her, her hair scattering as she side-apparated. She felt herself come to a sudden stop. _That wasn't bad at all!_ Normally she felt like she was being pressed through a very small tube when apparating, but this time she didn't feel any discomfort at all. Opening her eyes, the darkness of Harry's flat making it hard to see, she raised her wand, non-verbally lighting the room.

She was standing in what appeared to be Harry's living room. The first thing she noticed was how perfectly neat everything was, nothing out of place. There was a slate gray sofa with two matching arm chairs, a rosewood coffee table, a dark Brazilian walnut hardwood flooring, a few bookshelves and end tables. Very modern, she noted. The sofa and chairs faced a large entertainment stand featuring a telly, DVD/VHS player, and a large stereo system. There was also a telephone on the end table against the sofa. She felt Harry's hand slip away and seconds later the lights switched on.

Hermione turned to Harry, raising her eyebrows and indicating the TV with a jerk of her head. "Flat screen?" she questioned.

Harry chuckled. "This is a muggle flat I'm renting; I have to keep up appearances. Don't worry, its safe here. I've put up all the protections I could think of here: Protego Totalum, Unbreakable charm on door and walls, Intruder charm, Silencing charm, Anti-Alohamora on door and windows. I would make it unplottable but I think this place will be only temporary. I know its quite small, but I don't need much room, and I like it."

Circling around the living room, Hermione continued on through the rest of the flat. The kitchen had a lovely island in the middle with bar stools against one side and a bowl of fake fruit featured in the center. She casually went through all the cabinets, opening one for a few seconds and absent-mindedly checking its contents before moving on to the next. Her aimless inspection took her through the small dining area and over to a hallway.

Harry was happy to watch her roam nonchalantly. When she reached the end of the hallway to the door leading to his room, he came out of his musing and stepped in front of her, putting his back to the door.

Hermione raised her eyebrows again. "Got something to hide?" she wondered facetiously.

Harry gave a nervous laugh. Quietly he opened the door and swung his left arm inside, flicking his wand. He heard soft movement inside the room for a second and then nothing. "My room," he told her as he inched the door fully open. Walking in first, he was relieved to find the quick spell had worked.

Harry stepped aside to give Hermione more room to pass as she entered. The room opened up to the right, and featured a king sized bed cornered by a set of night stands against the wall. Opposite the bed on the western wall hung another flat screen above two low bookcases. Making her way farther into the room, she found a huge walk-in closet to the right of the bed.

His room fit the theme of the rest of the flat, the basics. There were only two photographs on a nightstand. Curious, she walked closer to inspect them. They were magical photos. The first was of his parents dancing in a park. The second, Hermione was delighted to find, was of her and Harry. In the picture, it was Christmas time at Hogwarts their 7th year. Harry had just told Hermione a joke and two were laughing strongly. "I didn't know you had a picture of this," Hermione said, holding up the frame.

"Colin took it. I didn't know at the time...but I'm glad he did. It's one of my fondest memories," he replied.

A girlish grin covered Hermione's face, and she took Harry's hand in hers. "Mine too," she nearly squeaked, so filled with giddiness.

Finishing her analysis of the place, she was a bit suspicious of how well put together the place was. She would have thought at least a few places would be messy with just a man living here. _Even his bedroom was tidy. _"You hired a decorator, didn't you?"

"Had to. Didn't really have the time, much less the drive to do it myself."

Hermione frowned, dropping his hand. "Harry, if you haven't had time to furnish a home or take a holiday, how do you have time to spend with me? You can't possib-"

"Because you're worth it," Harry interrupted without thinking. He quickly realized that what he said could change the mood of the rest of the night. "And besides, things are slowing down at work. There hasn't been an incident or any leads recently," he recovered.

"Okay..." Hermione began slowly. "But I don't want to cause you any tension with work."

"Don't worry about me, Hermione. Let's just enjoy the fact that work is slow right now. So what do you want to do?"

"I don't know; it's your place. What's there to do here?"

"Well, we could watch a movie. I haven't seen any in so long, it'd be nice to sit down and watch one with you."

"A movie sounds-"

Suddenly, a white light entered the room, and Hermione shrieked in surprise. The light, which Hermione then realized was from a patronus, shifted to the form of a lynx. Hermione calmed down a bit, but was still on edge from the shock. The lynx spoke: "Potter, you are needed immediately. Report in as soon as possible. This is a code nine." And with that, the light zoomed from the room.

Hermione looked up at Harry. He was staring off into the wall behind her. She studied his face, and after a few seconds concluded that his reaction was one of realization, planning, and worry. Then swiftly her hand was taken in his and she was quickly ushered into the living room. "Stay here, don't leave. Watch a movie, or read a book. I know its a limited selection compared to what you're used to, so I'm sorry about that. But you _cannot_ leave, understand?"

"Harry, what's-?"

"Listen, code nine means that there are more than one confirmed Death Eater sightings here in London. This place is safer for you than your house. Please, please tell me that you'll stay here."

"Harry, you're being ridiculous. Why would the Death Eaters want to go after me?"

"I don't know, Hermione! But I can't go until I know that you'll be safe, and your place just isn't good enough in that regard for me. So promise me that you'll stay here until I get back."

Hermione didn't want to have to stay here by herself, but she saw the intensity in Harry's eyes. She sat down on the sofa. "Okay," she nodded. "I promise."

Harry sighed in relief. "Now, there are blankets in the closet of the guest bedroom if you get cold, some movies on that shelve by the telly, water and milk in the fridge to drink. I'll bring some food when I get back. Here's the important part: Keep your wand on you at all times. If anyone besides me is to come here, you jinx them. No questions asked. You understand?"

Hermione gave another meek nod.

"Good," Harry said, moving around to the kitchen. "I have to go. I'll be back as soon as I can." Harry looked back at her turned around on the couch, watching him. Her almost teary eyes gave him pause.

"Harry, _please _be careful."

"Hermione, it's like you don't know me at all," he replied with a grin, then apparated.

"The problem is Mr. Potter," she whispered, watching the spot from where he vanished, "I know you too well."

* * *

As Harry walked hurriedly through the corridors of the Ministry, he let his mind evaluate the situation. He didn't know much, besides that there were more than one Death Eater spotted in London. There were so many questions. How many exactly? Who are they? Why _here _of all places? What are they up to?

Rounding a corner, hopping into an elevator, Harry thought about what kind of response they were able to make. How many of his team were still in town? He knew that Dawlish and Savage would still be abroad, but maybe Hawlish was back. Tonks should be here too. So that made four of them, including Kingsley. Harry had every confidence in the ability of himself and his team members, but right now Harry didn't know if they would be facing two dark wizards, or ten.

Why were they grouping up? Up until now, the Death Eaters M.O. had been to split up individually. It scared Harry to think about the reasons behind their sudden organization. Was there someone stepping up as the new big shot? Or worse, is Voldemort close to a revival? Harry knew the latter was unlikely, still he knew it wasn't impossible. There had to be a purpose to this. Not only had they risked coming back into the country, but into London of all places, the Ministry's back yard. The first known Death Eater gathering since the failed resurrection of Voldemort and it was happening in London? There was a terrible purpose behind this meeting. Whatever it is, Harry shuddered at the possible consequences.

Harry's mind then wandered back to Hermione. Was she really safer at his flat than at the Ministry? His place was secure, but was it better than a place full of Ministry witches and wizards? Thinking about it, he was liking his decision to have her stay there more and more. Yes, the Ministry would be plenty safe, but if she was here she would insist on helping, and Harry knew that Moody wouldn't say no to a witch of Hermione's caliber. Capable or not, Harry couldn't think of her being in harms way like that.

Exiting the elevator, Harry found Alastor waiting for him at the door. "What's the word, boss?" he asked.

Moody grunted, he didn't like being called "boss". "Get in there with the rest of 'em," he pointed to a briefing room.

Harry sidestepped his supervisor and proceeded into the briefing room. He was pleased to see Tonks and Hawlish already sitting down.

"Wotcher, Harry!" Tonks called.

"Hi there, Tonks. You know what's going on?"

"Well, we thought you might be able to tell us," interjected Hawlish.

"Nah. Good to see you though, Hawkes. How was Romania? When did you get back?"

"Just a few hours ago-"

The door opened and closed behind them, ending the conversation. Moody strode in past the three aurors and to the map board. "Listen up, ye three," he began. "Two confirmed sightings from authentic sources on a group of DEs here in London. Shacklebolt has traced them to an abandoned warehouse down in Kingston and have them surrounded there with an Anti-Disapparition jinx and a force of aurors. You three, along with Shacklebolt, are the strike team. Any questions?"

"How many Death Eaters, Moody?" Hawlish piped up.

"It is unknown exactly, but we have confirmed three entering the building. Those three are Alecto Carrow, Yaxley, and Macnair."

"Presumably they had someone house-sitting the place, and I'd bet it's the other Carrow. If one Carrow is here, you can be sure the other is too," Harry pitched in.

Tonks nodded agreement. "So that makes an even four on four."

"They could have had more than one playing keeper," Moody admonished.

"So what are they here for? And what sparked this reunion?" Harry spoke again.

"Why are you askin' me, Potter? Get down there and ask 'em yourself."

"Right away, boss man."

"Let's do this," agreed Tonks, then apparated.

Hawlish grinned and stood. "No rest for the weary, eh?" And then with a quick pop he was gone too.

"Catch you later, boss," Harry said with a wink, following after.

* * *

Hermione had settled in nicely at Harry's. Riffling through his bookshelves, she was rather impressed with the amount of actual noteworthy pieces he owned. Most of them consisted of subjects pertaining to his job, but others were present that Hermione could only guess was for Harry's pleasure, as they were muggle creations; _Things Fall Apart, Invisible Man, A Tale of Two Cities_...Hermione found his taste invigorating. She was also very pleased to see he still owned the copies of _Hogwarts, A History _and _Cram It!: How to Soar on Your O.W.L.s _that she had given him many years ago.

However, Harry's surprisingly impressive collection of books aside, she had read them all several times over and knew that they wouldn't keep her mind off of Harry's sudden situation. With a sigh, she plopped down on the sofa, having put a random DVD in the player, and tried to focus on the scenes that were happening before her. "Harry will be alright," she mused. "He has to be."

* * *

"So what do you reckon, Harry?" Tonks chimed from behind him, almost making him jump and lose concentration.

They had arrived at the premises not twenty minutes ago. Macnair, Yaxley, one Carrow, and presumably the other, were holed up in an early 20th century red bricked building. The Ministry had taken up positions in all buildings surrounding the target area. Kingsley informed them that nobody else had entered the building, and there was no way they could leave without alerting the aurors. It was possible that the Death Eaters were aware of their predicament, Kinglsey didn't think they were, but Harry knew there was always a chance. For the past few minutes, Harry was searching the place magically for any magical manipulations on their end. Deciding his search was thorough enough, he dropped his hands to his side and turned. "I don't think they planned on being here long, there aren't many enchantments on the place besides the door being bewitched against unlocking spells and a muggle repelling charm."

Kingsley nodded. "Then now is the time to execute while they are unprepared."

"Right. Go in through a wall? Keep this lot out here to watch the exits?" Harry suggested, indicating the other Ministry employees.

Kingsley nodded again. "Dawlish, you take point. Tonks, you in second, followed by Potter, then myself. Atkins!" he called. "You and your chaps stay out here and be ready to grab anyone trying to escape."

The other wizard nodded and hurried off. Shacklebolt drew his wand. "Okay, chaps. Good luck."

Harry had an uneasy feeling about this. There were so many questions that he couldn't answer and it left him feeling vulnerable. There were three, probably four, Death Eaters hanging out in London for reasons he didn't know. They must have a purpose to being here, and they must know and be prepared for the possibility of being discovered. Nonetheless, pondering those questions wouldn't get them answered; taking prisoners would. Harry took a deep breath.

"On three, Hawlish!" Harry warned.

Hawlish nodded and prepared himself.

Harry signaled with his fingers. One...Two...Three! He flourished his wand at the wall and a blue light collided with it, sending rubble flying in all directions. Almost immediately Hawkes Hawlish jumped through the debris, followed quickly by Tonks, then Harry moved in. As he hopped through the window he just made, he heard Tonks curse. Two Death Eaters were already firing back upon them, sending many curses their direction. Harry recognized them as Macnair and Yaxley. _Damnit, they knew we were here. _Taking cover behind a workbench, Harry gathered his bearings. The building looked like a workshop or factory. They were fighting in what appeared to be the main room of the building as it was filled with work stations. Tonks had similarly taken cover behind a bench and was returning jinxes back at their assailants. Kingsley didn't have much time to move in after Harry and was still standing in the hole, letting loose stunning spells. He saw what he hoped was an unconscious Hawlish on the ground near the hole-entrance. They must have hit him as soon as he crawled in.

Sending a few body binding jinxes at Yaxley, forcing him to find cover, Harry moved up. _Where are the Carrows?_ To his right there seemed to be office spaces, maybe they were there?

Among the spell work, Harry heard the thud of a body hitting the floor. Looking back at his colleagues in fear, he was relieved to see them still up as Tonks shouted, "Got one!"

"Well done! Watch for the others!" Harry called after.

Now three against one, Harry re-positioned himself as the other two kept him pinned down, crouching in between the stations. Getting clear line of sight, Harry was easily able to stun Yaxley. Silence enveloped the room.

"I think it's clear," Tonks spoke first, coming out of cover.

"No! Stay put! We're missing at least one more!" Harry pointed out.

Looking around, Harry saw a sudden movement to his right, from the offices area. Again, he saw the back of Alecto Carrow running down the short hallway.

Harry immediately gave chase. Then out of the corner of his eye he identified her brother, Amycus, in the window of an office facing the giant work room. Pointing his wand in the air, a flash of green light crashed into the ceiling, shattering it and raining wreckage down upon the room. Harry halted and looked back The debris had fallen between Harry and the rest of his team, separating them.

A shrill giggled forced his attention forward again.

Alecto Carrow was at the end of the hallway. "Oh no," she giggled again. "Did my dear brother hurt your friends? It seems you're all alone now."

"Maybe now you'll have a chance," Harry replied hotly.

"Oh, what confidence, Amycus! Maybe we should teach him a lesson in modesty."

"I think that's a wonderful idea, sister," her brother agreed.

Harry didn't wait; he sent a hex at Amycus and shielded a spell from Alecto. Sliding to his right, he hugged the wall as he dodged another spell from the siblings. Summoning a serpent, Harry sent it flying at Alecto, teeth baring. The dark witch turned the snake into string and fired back a blast of fire at Harry. Harry misdirected the inferno with a gust of wind at Amycus. Amycus reacted barely in time to shield himself in a water barrier.

Ducking into a side office, Harry evaded a flash of red. Popping out, he managed to hit Alecto with a spark of orange, burning her arm, and giving Harry a smile.

Her brother, not amused, sent a death curse at the still exposed Harry. Summoning a shield charm around himself at the last second, the curse bounced back, hitting Amycus square in the chest and he dropped.

A shriek filled Harry's ears as the dark witch mourned her loss.

"I'LL KILL YOU FOR THAT!"

"Oi, he did that himself." Harry pointed out.

Raising her wand, Alecto fired off a series of lights. Red and green filled the room, and it was all Harry could do to dodge or block her attacks. Finding a lapse in her assault, Harry countered with a stunning spell which collided with Alecto's jinx. The force of the two spells colliding created a blast of energy that reverberated throughout the small offices, sending both wizard and witch flying. Harry saw the limp body of both Carrows before everything went black.

* * *

A/N: Wellllll. Whatcha think? I have an idea on where this story is going to go, but feel free to leave suggestions if you feel the desire to.


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